Before Silas was conceived, I posted about how the most frequently occurring birthday in the United States is September 16th.  When we finally found out that we were pregnant and my EDD was also the 16th, I was pretty excited! 

September 16th came and went.  So did the 17th, 18th, 19th,... well you get the drift, right?  On the 23rd, we had a long appointment with the OB and discussed the exit strategy after learning that I was still not dilated.  At all.  He knew how important it was to me to have a natural child birth with as few interventions as possible, but we were getting down to the wire.  He agreed to have me come back in on the 26th for another appointment but that this baby was going to have to be born by the end of the month, one way or another. 

Doug and I went home and I said that I was actually feeling better about things because we had plenty of time.  This baby would come before the 30th because I was now calm and relaxed. Also, the doctor said I could use Evening Primrose Oil though he wasn't sure it would help since most people that do use it, start it at 38 weeks or so. 

That night I used my first dose (vaginally).  Tuesday morning I woke up to bloody show.  I was sure that Silas would be born soon.  I had some mild contractions but none with any real pattern or intensity.  The bleeding continued through the night.  On Wednesday morning Doug agreed that he should not go to work and we were going to walk this baby out at Walmart.  I was hoping my water would break at Walmart and I would look like I peed my pants and suddenly be featured on The People of Walmart.  It didn't happen.

We went back home and the mild contractions were petering out.  We took Gavin and Joey to soccer and I was texting my doula all the while.  I was still feeling like things were going to happen and soon.  After soccer, my parents took the boys and Doug and I contemplated our plan.  My contractions were no where near hospital worthy.  He went to bed and I decided that I was going to hang out for a while, sit on the birth ball and play on the computer.  Wouldn't you know it, contractions started to pick up.  Soon they were getting stronger.  Then more frequent.  Then both.  They were about 5 minutes apart and lasting a minute.   I decided that since the hospital was 40 minutes away, it was time to wake up Doug and have a chat about when we should leave. 

I went upstairs at about 2:00am and told Doug, "It is time for us to think about heading to the hospital."
He woke up and I headed downstairs to gather up a couple of last minute things. A couple minutes later Doug called down to me and asked me to clarify if we were going to the hospital or just going eventually.  At that precise moment, I felt a warm gush.  I didn't answer Doug for a second as I confirmed what I thought had happened when I felt a second, larger, more obvious gush. 

I called up to him, "My water just broke, so yeah.  We are going now!"  I was basing the whole "we should leave NOW!" thing on the fact that when they broke my water with Joey, I was halfway to baby.  I didn't want to have a car baby so it was time to move!

I had contractions every 5 minutes like clockwork.  They were strong but I could still talk through them.  That should have been my first sign.  When we arrived at the hospital and went to get checked in, I realized that I had missed a contraction.  We were walked to the Labor and Delivery wing and by the time we got there, I still hadn't had a contraction.  They were getting me set up and still... nothing. 

My mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and nieces arrived and a short time later, the doula arrived.  I had maybe a mild contraction or two in the span of 35 minutes.  Then, they checked my cervix.  I was sure that with two days of consistent contractions (albeit mild) and lots of bloody show that I would be at about a 4 and maybe even a 5.  I was a 2.  A measly 2 centimeters.  I was a mix of annoyed with my cervix, embarrassed because of the room full of eager faces that we had roused from bed with the promises of a baby arriving soon, and wanting to turn around and go home.  Instead we watched TV and waited. 

I was having some consistent contractions again but they were short and lasting only 25-35 seconds.  I was so tired and wishing that I could just go back to bed.  The room full of people left to go get breakfast and the doula and I stayed in the room to keep things moving. It was then that the doula gave me a pep talk.  She explained that I could either rest and wait very patiently knowing that I was on the "your water broke clock" or I could get up, get moving, and take an active role in getting this labor going.  I slowly and reluctantly agreed recognizing that one way or another, this baby was coming.  It could be a long painful labor or a short painful labor.  Either way it was going to hurt so lets try to do it fast like a bandaid. 

I started walking, sitting on the birth ball, and just stayed moving for a couple of hours.  The contractions started really getting powerful and were finally back to lasting a minute and coming every 5 minutes.  Plus, now, I was actually moaning, focusing and able to tell that they were becoming productive.  I was getting increasingly uncomfortable and was sure that I was getting closer to meeting the baby.   

When the group returned from breakfast at about 9:45, they were joking that they had all made bets on when the baby would arrive.  The guesses ranged from 12:45 pm to 3:30 pm.  I went against my better judgement and asked the doula what she thought.  She reluctantly admitted that she thought I would have the baby by dinner time.  I didn't like her guess. 

Things really got moving and I was having intense contractions that I was moaning through, couldn't talk through, and was feeling a lot of pressure with every contraction.  Every movement I would make would trigger an intense contraction.  I was ready to get into the labor tub to see if it might help me finish dilating and maybe I would even be able to deliver in the tub.  The nurse came in and checked me (only the second time since my arrival 8 or 9 hours earlier).  She was quiet and pensive as she mustered a very positive voice and smiled and said, "You are now a 4 and very thin!"  I was reduced to tears.  Literally.  I cried.  I was only 4 centimeters. It was at that moment that I realized that the Doula was probably right.  I wasn't even close to having this baby. 

Everyone reassured me but all I could hear in my head was "I can't deal with this until dinner time."  They also told me that I wasn't able to get in the tub until I was a 6 or 7 centimeters.  They convinced me to get in the shower instead.  I stood under the toasty warm water and just soaked in the warmth and relaxation.  I was alone.  It was quiet.  It was so peaceful.  When I felt a contraction building up I was was so upset because I didn't want my happy place to start being a lot less happy.  When the pressure and pain built, and I realized that Ihe discomfort happen but do whatever I could to stay in my happy place.  As the pressure of the baby's head pushed on my cervix, I breathed deeply allowed myself to let myself let the baby push down.  It was strange because I felt a little like I was pushing but I wasn't.  I just wasn't not pushing.  I did that for about 5 or 6 contractions and felt pretty good!  I decided that I needed to "confess" to the doula that I was not pushing, but I wasn't not pushing.  She seemed to understand what I meant but warned me not to actively push.  

The doula then asked me to climb on the bed on all fours to help the baby move past my pelvis.  I leaned on the birth ball and a few times I actually fell asleep.  But when the contractions started to build, I would dread it.  They were so strong and powerful and I could only think that I was only 4 cm 20 minutes or so ago.  It was only noon.  I just couldn't do this until dinner time.  I hit my wall.  I looked up at Doug and asked him if he would support my decision to get an epidural.  We had talked much earlier about how I really didn't want an epidural and how when I asked for one, he should remind me that I am very very close to meeting the baby.  The only issue was, we both were worried that I wasn't that close.  Doug did a very smart thing.  He stalled.  I would labor through a contraction and ask him again about the epidural.  I was in my own head trying to talk myself out of it, but I was losing that battle with my mind as each contraction left me weak, sweaty, and exhausted. 

With the next contraction, I remembered how much better I felt when I didn't fight the pressure so I started allowing myself to push a little.  I was better able to manage the pain but I was now silently contemplating how a c-section wouldn't be so bad if it meant that I wouldn't hurt anymore.  With the next contraction I realized that I was pushing a little.  I whispered to the doula, "I think I am pushing."  With the next contraction, I again whispered to the doula, "I think I am pushing."  I don't remember any real response.  On the next contraction, I remember the nurse being in the room so I whispered to her, "I think I am pushy.  I really want to push."  I said it again with the next contraction though I was a little worried that I was only being hopeful.  Like, if I told myself I was pushy, it would make the baby come sooner. 

The nurse decided that she would check me, though I am sure she was worried that I wouldn't have progressed and that according to my last reaction to my measly 4, that I would lose my mind.  She quietly checked and I may have even held my breath as I braced for the news.  She announced proudly that I was 9 cm and she was going to get the doctor.  I couldn't have been more excited! 

I watched as they wheeled in the tool table and set up for delivery.  I was shocked and unable to believe that this was really happening.  It was while I watched people move around, set up, prepare for the big moment, that I realized that I was just moments away from meeting a new little person who would surely change my life.  It may be hard to believe but it was that exact moment that my pregnancy wasn't just a baby in my belly.  It was my son.  A real person.  A person that I was going to hold in my arms and fall in love with over a lifetime!  I could hardly wait!

The doctor walked in and smiled and checked me.  He told me to push a little while he was checking me and announced that he was going to let me push.  I said, "Good, because I was going to anyway!"  The room quietly giggled. As I got ready to make this baby enter the world, I suddenly remembered that maybe this baby was going to be huge!  What if he gets stuck?  What if there are difficulties?  Then, I simply decided that I wasn't going to let that happen.  He was going to come out easily just like Joey. 

Doug held one leg and my favorite nurse grabbed the other and they gave me the green light.  I pushed like nobody's business.  I pushed with everything I had.  I heard voices saying things like, "Good!"  "Wow!"  "Look at her go!"  "Keep going, Maria!"  I could feel the "ring of fire," but I wasn't going to let it slow me down.   I wanted to meet this baby. 

After less than a minute of pushing, Silas John was laid on my stomach at 12:41 pm.  I couldn't see his face but I was overjoyed that for the first time ever, I had a baby with hair!  It was dark, long hair!  He laid on my bare chest as the cord was cut (after it stopped pulsating) and while my repair work was done (very minimal).  The pediatrician checked him out for a few minutes and then he nursed like an old pro!

We were discharged from the hospital 24 hours after he entered the world. 

Silas John: 9 pounds 6 ounces and 22 inches long!

 (I may be adding more photos to this post but these will have to do for now until I get a chance to look through all of the pictures.)